


Waiting

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Draco have been sleeping together for months.  But it doesn't mean anything.  Or does it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

The first thing Harry notices as he begins to wake up is the cool morning air drifting across his sleep warmed skin. He shifts his body slowly, his body still heavy with sleep, and as he rolls onto his stomach and stretches he feels the last bit of the sheet that was just barely covering him slide off.

The next thing he notices, as his arms reach out to curl around Draco but are met instead with an empty space, is that the other half of the bed is in fact empty. 

With a quiet huff and a slight frown Harry forces his eyes open, squinting into the soft sunlight streaming through the open window. Draco is standing there, leaning back against the window frame wearing nothing but his black boxers and Harry feels his face begin to flush the moment he remembers exactly what they did to end up in such a state of undress. As he moves his hips it doesn't escape his notice that he is wearing even less clothing than Draco and he briefly thinks of reaching for the sheet until he realizes that he somehow must have managed to kick it to the floor while he was stretching.

Harry opens his mouth to ask Draco why he is out of bed so early when he notices his slightly tensed posture; the barely noticeable hunch of his shoulders and the beginnings of a worried frown between his eyebrows. It makes something in Harry's stomach clench painfully and he suddenly feels quite small and unsure. 

It occurs to him in a rush of panic that this could be the moment he's been dreading; the moment Draco realizes Harry is deeply and irrevocably in love with him and tells him it is over. And the absolute worst part of all it is that no matter how awful it will be, Harry won't even be able to blame him when he does it.

When they had first started this thing they have, whatever it might be, Draco had made it absolutely clear that it was sex and nothing more. And in the beginning that had suited Harry just fine. It wasn't like they had really been friends anyway. After the war they had made peace, but it still been a bit awkward as if neither one of them truly knew how to treat each other. After a few strange attempts at civility they had quickly fallen back into familiar bickering whenever their paths happened to cross, though it held a lot more sexual tension and a lot less bite than Harry could ever remember there being before.

After that, it seemed as if they were doing some sort of strange social dance around each other, never outrightly seeking each other out nor actually avoiding each other either. After months of this it seemed as if one day, quite suddenly, they began to continually run into each other, quite literally, over and over; at the ministry, in Diagon alley, and even more than once in muggle London. It didn't seem to matter where Harry was, because Draco was sure to be there too. And no matter how much Draco insisted that Harry was following him he couldn't shake the feeling that it was more likely the exact opposite.

The last straw, at least as far as Harry was concerned, was when he had nearly knocked Draco over at one of Luna's weekly dinner parties she'd taken to hosting after the war had ended. He didn't know how Draco could've possibly thought it was his fault because it wasn't like he could've even known he would be there too, he had just accidentally bumped into him in the hallway and Draco had started ranting about speccy eyed clumsy gits. 

Harry still isn't sure what exactly made him do it, especially considering that at the time he had more than half expected to be hexed for it, but without waiting to consider it for too long he'd just shoved Draco back against the wall roughly and kissed him with everything he had. Draco had let out a small groan of surprise before muttering "fucking, Potter, I should have known" and Harry really had wondered what exactly Draco should have known, except then Draco was pulling him into the loo and dropping to his knees and Harry couldn't possibly have been expected to think straight enough to be able to ask him, especially not when just a few minutes later Draco was fucking him over the sink hard and desperate and fast and Harry couldn't be entirely sure if it was more surreal to be fucked while staring at Luna's odd assortment of funnily shaped bath soaps or simply to be fucked by Draco. 

Afterwards Draco had kissed him til his lips were sore and bruised, before whispering "this can't happen again" and slipping out of the bathroom leaving Harry somehow entirely satisfied and unsatisfied all at once. He'd stood there several long minutes before picking up one of the strange little soaps on the counter and slipping it into his pocket.

Although as luck would have it, at least as far as Harry was concerned, it did happen again. And quite often. 

The following Tuesday when Harry was sent to Draco's department for a second opinion on a rather odd potions case, Harry had only been halfway through his debriefing when Draco had abruptly interrupted him and began muttering a rather powerful silencing charm. It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to ask what exactly that was for when Draco had shoved him roughly back against the door groaning "fucking Potter", and a few moments later he really was fucking him. He almost considered expressing the irony of the situation but something about the intensity in Draco's face had him biting back everything but a scream as he came in hard spurts against Draco's pale stomach, his legs wrapped around Draco's waist and his nails digging into Draco's arse.

Harry spent all of the next week with an aching hard on, desperate for another go, but every time he managed to make eye contact with the other man he simply ignored him. It didn't seem to matter if they were inside or outside of work, because each time Draco would simply look away as if he couldn't be more bored or uninterested. Which is why it came as so much of shock to Harry when that following Saturday he found himself once again being dragged into Luna's obnoxiously bright yellow bathroom. 

Harry was absolutely positive that he wasn't going to stand for one more second of being fucked around, literally or figuratively, when Draco had simply dropped his drop trousers, exposing his own cock that was flushed pink and looked just as achingly hard as Harry's was, before whispering "Fuck me, Potter." In that moment every shred of will power he'd been desperately holding onto vanished into thin air. Which is exactly when their arrangement had started. Afterwards, when Harry had dropped himself against Draco's sweat soaked back panting and shaking, Draco had simply turned to face him, nuzzling his face into Harrys neck and dragging his fingers along the crack of his arse.

"Next time we do this we might need a bed. But this doesn't mean anything. We're not dating. I don't do commitment and I don't need you fucking up my life. I've worked hard to get where I am and no one is going to mess that up, not even you. You got it?"

Rather than answer, Harry had closed his eyes, knowing this was a bad idea and knowing somewhere deep inside that he was not capable of fucking without feeling. The problem wasn't that he wanted to be Draco's boyfriend, not really. Hell he wasn't even sure he could stand him half the time. But still, he had also never been the kind of guy to sleep with someone when it didn't mean anything.

Clearly sensing his hesitation Draco began to gently pull open his arse, circling around his whole before pressing one finger deep inside Harry, all while sucking on his ear as he slowly worked a second finger inside of him. Harry wondered how on earth it was possible to be so desperately hard again already. He knew Draco was playing him and he just didn't care because all he could think about was the fact that not doing this again, as often as fucking possible, would be one of the greatest tragedies of his life. 

So when a few seconds later Draco moved behind him, his impossibly warm hands on Harry's hips and his hard cock nudging at his entrance, whispering "Can you do this, Potter?" Harry simply nodded because he was quite sure he would agree to almost anything in that moment if it meant Draco was going to fuck him again. With a shuddering breath he dropped his head back to rest on Draco's shoulders, looking into the mirror over the sink and watching with barely veiled excitement as Draco pressed into him, sliding his cock all the way in as deep as it would go, Draco's hips shoved firmly against his arse and the counter digging into Harry's hips. Draco stayed like that for so long Harry was close to begging, until Draco finally pulled back then slammed his hips forward sliding all the way out and then back in again over and over. It was the single hottest thing Harry had ever seen, and he reached down to wrap his own fingers around his own neglected cock as he locks eyes with Draco, watching him as he watches him too, and it was precisely then that Harry knew with complete and utter certainly he was entirely fucked.

As the weeks turned into months, Harry's excuses for showing up in Draco's office or his flat became blatantly transparent even to him. But Draco never called him on it and Harry never pressed the issue, too afraid of what the answer might be if he did. 

Instead he took every opportunity he could to memorize the other man, unable to believe that he had ever once believed Draco Malfoy to be cold or aloof because as a lover he was anything but. He was not exactly sentimental, and Harry had no illusions that he should be, not when he'd been perfectly clear what he wanted out of this. And yet he was an incredibly thoughtful and generous lover. 

In fact as more and more time went on Harry couldn't help but wonder why Draco had begun to let Harry stay the night, or why the desperate fucking in bathrooms and behind locked doors, had one turned into all night affairs in the bedroom, interspersed with sleeping and cuddling and then even more sleepy sex. 

As the dynamics of the sex began to change, so too did everything else in the relationship, or "not a relationship" as Harry called it when talking to Hermione. Despite the shift, it took Harry quite a long time to realize that people no longer seemed surprised to see them together, and it took him even longer to realize just how often they would spend time together even when sex wasn't involved. In fact some days, more than he is sure either of them would admit, after long stressful days Harry often found himself at Draco's flat being tugged down the hallway and undressed, but instead of sex Draco would simply pull him to bed, curling around him from behind and gently removing his glasses. Those nights there were always so many things Harry wanted to ask or say, but instead he would usually find himself drifting to sleep feeling oddly safe and content, with so much left unsaid.

In the beginning it had been so easy to separate this arrangement they had from the rest of his life, because it hadn't really felt real, but somewhere along the lines things had definitely changed and after several months Harry one day realized that he wasn't the only one showing up unannounced with flimsy excuses. The problem was that while Harry was happy about this change, he wasn't entirely sure how Draco felt. 

He hadn't meant to get attached, in fact he'd actually tried quite hard not too, but one day he'd looked at the opposite end of the couch where Draco sat drinking his tea and reading the Prophet on a Sunday morning and he realized that Draco had somehow insinuated himself into Harry's life seamlessly; into all the places he hadn't known he'd needed someone. He found that once Draco stopped trying to keep him at such a distance, they got on exceedingly well. They still argued and butted heads, but more often than not he was surprised to find that their personalities actually complimented each other quite well. He found that he rather liked Draco's dry sense of humor and his tendency towards dramatics, he liked being kept on his toes, he liked having someone to debate the morning news with over tea, and he really liked having someone share his bed. 

In fact every moment he spent with Draco only made him more and more certain that he didn't want to spend another moment without him. Which he thinks, as he looks over at Draco leaning back into the window frame, is exactly the problem. It is a startling thing to realize just how used to having Draco around he is and just how much he'd stopped trying to remember that he wasn't supposed to be his.

When Draco lets out a soft sigh, moving towards the bed, Harry feels all the air leave his lungs and he suddenly can't breathe because if Draco is going to end things now he needs at least one more time with him, one more memory to hold on to. It won't be enough, but it will be something, and Harry has always been willing to take whatever he can get.

"Harry," Draco whispers, his knees making the mattress dip to one side. Harry has to close his eyes, because he can't look at him, can't bare to hear his name being uttered like that. "Harry look at me," he says again, and there is something so unexpected in his tone that Harry can't help himself, and he feels his eyes flutter open just as Draco's hands move along his neck and then farther up to tangle in his hair cradling his head, as if he were something precious. 

There are so many things he wants to say, and yet the words just won't come. When Draco looks at him like this he feels completely and utterly exposed and it has shockingly little to do with the fact that he is naked. So instead of focusing on that he leans forward, wrapping one arm around Draco's back and pulling him closer until their chests are pressed together so tightly Harry can feel Draco's heart beating fast and strong almost in synch with his own. 

They have kissed so many times that Harry has lost count, but he knows he will never tire of the way Draco's lips feel against his own, warm and soft and always a bit demanding. Draco tastes of tea and toothpaste and he wonders how long Draco was awake just watching him, but he quickly rids himself of the thought unwillingly to spoil this moment because Draco is kissing him as if he might die if he stopped and that is exactly how Harry feels.

With more confidence than he truly feels Harry moves backwards, pulling Draco with him until Draco's solid weight is pressing him down into the mattress. Then Draco begins to rock against him, his cock heavy and hard against Harry's hips as they move together. Harry reaches down, his fingers wrapping around Draco's cock as he begins to slide his hand up and down in time with the agonizing slow thrusts of Draco's hips, then he takes his other hand off Draco's arse and moves it to down to fondle his balls and something seems to snap in Draco as he lets out a desperate sort of whimpering noise and snaps his hips down hard enough that Harry opens his mouth in surprise. Draco is there immediately, thrusting his tongue inside, claiming Harry's mouth with such intensity that Harry's head begins to spin and it takes him a few seconds to notice cool, slick fingers circling his entrance. 

Harry pulls his knees back to his chest, his legs falling open to give Draco better access, not at all caring how desperate he might look because he knows that he is and he doesn't think he could try to hide it even if he wanted to. He forces himself not to close his eyes though, locking them with Draco's and watching with an almost dazed feeling as Draco maintains their eye contact, sucking on his bottom lip all while watching him back just as intensely. 

Harry almost wishes now was one of those times when Draco prepared him torturously slow until Harry was nearly screaming, just so it could last longer, but he also knows neither one of them could handle that type of teasing right now. 

All too quickly Draco's fingers are gone, replaced by his cock and then he's pressing into Harry so deep and hard he feels as if might fall apart. And then Harry can't watch anymore, too terrified of what he might say, so he throws his head to the side, whimpering as his back arches off the bed and it's all too much as Draco fucks him just so; hard and desperate but edged with something tender with his hands on Harry's neck and chest. Draco angles his hips to hit that same spot that makes Harry scream and then Harry really does lose it because Draco continues thrusting against that spot over and over and Harry knows he's truly a mess now, his hands clutching at Draco as he begs and pleads and he can't hold it in any longer. His heels dig firmly into Draco's back and his hands will leave bruises on Draco's hips and as he comes in long hard spurts against Draco's chest he hears three words he swore he'd never say leaving his mouth, but then Draco is coming too with his face shoved in Harry's neck and his own hands gripping Harry's hips so tightly.

It takes a minute for Harry's ears to stop ringing and when they do he is distinctly aware of Draco's ragged breathing in his ear and the sweaty. sticky mess between their bodies. Draco is impossibly warm and heavy on his chest and he throws one shaky arm over his face and closes his eyes desperately hoping Draco didn't hear him. It takes a few minutes before Draco begins to move again but when he does Harry swears he can feel grey eyes boring into him even though he isn't looking.

"Harry....Harry look at me," Draco says softly, slowly prying Harry's arm off of his face but Harry just squints his eyes shut tighter. 

After several seconds of silence, which feel like an eternity to Harry, Draco speaks again his voice quiet but firm. "I do too."

Harry's eyes snap open immediately, searching Draco's face for something although he isn't entirely sure what, but all he sees there are the same things he thinks must be on his own face; hope, fear, and just enough love to outweigh them all. 

Harry hears himself letting out a strangle strangled sort of choking noise before he tackles him back into the bed, not caring at all that his eyes are watering or that he is laughing like a crazy person as he kisses Draco's lips and then his cheek and his nose until he is kissing him all over.

"Fucking barmy you are, don't know why I love you," Draco says, but the beginnings of a smile on his face tell Harry everything he needs to know.

"I love you too," Harry whispers. 

Draco doesn't say anything, just reaches out and links their fingers together, pulling Harry back down into the bed and against his chest. And as Harry lays there, listening to Draco's heart beating fast and strong, he realizes that maybe he was his all along.


End file.
